Someone appeared behind the front desk, and Curtis’ heart jolted—but it was just the receptionist with a cup of tea. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his and Sal’s texts. There were thousands of jokes, reels, pictures and memes.
It can’t be over, Curtis thought.Please don’t let it be over…
“Hey, mate, how’s it going?”
Curtis looked up to see a tattooed guy smiling at him. He had stretchers in both ears and was as tall standing as Curtis was sitting down. “Klaus?”
“Yup. Come through. You want a coffee?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
“Then come through. Let’s chat.”
Curtis followed him past the desk and into one of the tattoo rooms. Klaus closed the door and swung himself onto the tattoo bench.
“Take a seat,” he said, pointing to a normal chair nearby. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”
Curtis shook his head and sat. He’d seen photos of Sal’s ex on Instagram and been a bit of a cunt about him, wondering how the fuck a dude who looked like a goth Christmas elf pulled such a fox. But now that he was looking at Klaus, he got it. The guy was utterly relaxed, grinning at him in a way that made Curtis want to smile back.
He’d never be a dick to Sal.He’d never get all confused when they’re talking.
“So?” Klaus said. “You’re seeing Sal?”
“I, uh, I-I dunno,” Curtis stammered. “I want to. I like them. I like them, but, uh, nothing seems to be working. Because of me, I think.”
Klaus nodded slowly and Curtis wanted to fucking die. He’d come here to talk about non-binary stuff, not recruit Sal’s ex into a free therapy session. He stood up. “I’m sorry, man, I have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“It’s fine,” Klaus said. “There’s no stress here. It’s cool you reached out.”
The blip of relief Curtis felt only made him want to leave more. “It’s not. I just dunno what to do. I’m so into Sal, but no matter what I do, I just keep fucking stuff up and… God, this is fucking ridiculous, huh? I’m making a complete knob out of myself, aren’t I?”
“Not at all, mate. Take a seat, and I’ll get us a coffee.”
“But—”
“Let me,” Klaus said gently. “It’ll help. Seriously, sit and try to breathe it out. I’ll be back in a sec.”
He hopped off the bench and left, closing the door behind him. Curtis sat, exhaling what felt like the entire contents of his lungs.
“I get it,” he muttered to the room. “He’s a nice fucking guy.”
Klaus returned a few minutes later with two cups of coffee and retook his seat across from Curtis.
“Start at the start,” he said, pulling out a vape. “Or wherever feels right. I don’t have anyone in for another couple of hours. We’ve got heaps of time.”
And so, Curtis talked. He told Klaus how he and Sal met at the party. Sal didn’t want anyone to know how they'd been dating. He didn’t want to talk about how he’d been a dick to Sal back in the day, but once he got going, it was hard to stop and soon, he’d laid it all out. The sex, the balls-up with Byron Thomas, the fact that Sal wouldn’t let them meet any of their friends, and how he felt like it was because they wouldn’t like him.
“I’m their friend,” Klaus said through a massive cloud of smoke. “I like you.”
Curtis, drained and kinda lightheaded from whatever was in Klaus’ vape, almost started crying like a five-year-old. “Cheers, mate. ‘Preciate it.”
“I mean it. You stuck your neck out coming here to talk to me. That takes guts. And I know Sal’s into you.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Klaus grinned. “They’ve only been going on and on about you since you ran into each other at that party.”
Curtis stared at the tattoo artist, wondering if, despite everything, the guy was an asshole and he was fucking with him.
